Grudges 2
‘’The end of reality was drawing near. Dark things stirred in the void, and it was apparent that within mere days the entire Omniverse would be destroyed.’’ ‘’Only one man was capable of defending all we hold dear...’’ The next page showed an image of a man in a tweed jacket and a bow tie, holding a sonic probe and grinning widely. Olvi rolled her eyes and put the novel back on the shelf. The next few books were similarly ridiculous. Cheap novels written to capitalize on all the excitement that had happened on Trenzalore, each author giving his own wild spin on that final night when the Daleks were defeated and the Doctor disappeared. Olvi tended to avoid those books--not only was the writing style terrible in most of those books, but she preferred not to think about Trenzalore or other major events. These days she wasn’t really interested in politics. With a yawn, she hopped down from her stool and began working her way through the library towards the central desk. The library was an intensely quiet place, filled with other Kalossians. They were all curled into little balls with their books. Occasionally the silence was broken when one of the library’s patrons turned a page, stalked across the halls for a fresh book, or fell asleep and began snoring. “Page-mother,” Olvi began, approaching the desk and the snoring Kalossian on top of it. The Page-mother of Kallith Library didn’t wake up, as usual. Privately Olvi thought it was a mistake to have given the top librarian the most comfortable sleeping-desk. Nothing ever got done. “Page-mother,” she continued irritably. “I am finished.” A younger female Kalossian came out from behind a desk, looking flustered. “Terribly sorry,” she said. “The Page-mother has had a difficult time today.” The Page-mother started in her sleep, mumbling something about confession. The assistant librarian gave Olvi an apologetic look. “That’s alright,” Olvi said. “When she awakes, will you tell her I finished restocking the fiction section?” “Certainly!” “And I would like to check these books out for myself,” she continued, placing a bag onto the table. The assistant librarian picked a few up and glanced over them. “‘’Helen of Troy: The Untold Story’’,” she read, raising an eyebrow over the text. “This isn’t even written in Kalossian. Is that a human?” “I read what I like in my spare time,” Olvi snapped. The assistant shied back, looking hurt. “Wait a minute. Are you in Child Mind?” The assistant librarian nodded nervously, earning a sigh from Olvi. “Sorry for snapping. Seriously. Learn the other Minds, Volvuna.” “You could teach me!” Volvuna said eagerly. “You’re famous. You fought in the Androvax Conflict and led the charge during the Clom Assault! You’re a hero!” “No,” interrupted Olvi. “I’m not a teacher. I’m not a hero. I’m a tired old librarian who’s interested in alien biographies.” Volvuna made a sad expression. “I need help learning. Everyone else just laughs at me…” “Because you sound ridiculous when you’re in Child Mind,” Olvi pointed out irritably. “Volvuna, I’m not going to teach you about Minds. You’ll just have to figure them out yourself.” “What if I can’t?” Volvuna persisted. “What if I never learn the Minds?” “Then it means you’ll have lived an easy, peaceful life,” Olvi said gravely. “I never use them these days. I spend all day in Think Mind. Haven’t needed anything else in years.” She paused. “How do you even know about the Clom Assault?” “A very nice Ice Warrior came in here earlier,” explained Volvuna, her usual cheerfulness taking over again.. “He talked to the Page-mother, and then he talked to some of the other librarians. He wanted to know where you lived now.” “And did you tell him where I live?” “Well, not immediately,” assured Volvuna. “I made sure he was safe first. I chatted with him for an hour or two. He gave me a toy and said he worked for the salmon proclamation…” “The Shadow Proclamation?” groaned Olvi. “Yes, that!” exclaimed Volvuna. Olvi gathered her books and started heading out of the library. “Wait, did I do something wrong?” the assistant librarian called from behind her. “Is he dangerous?” “Not dangerous,” Olvi responded without looking back. “Just very annoying.” ---- Scarcely past the first chapter of her book, Olvi was interrupted by the sound of a knocking door. “Hello?” a gravelly voice called from outside. “I was told Olvi the Kalossian dwelled in this house.” There was a pause. “This is a house, right?” Olvi took a look around her home, weighing her options. She could ignore him, and he’d hopefully think the plant-covered structure she lived in was an entirely natural formation and leave. She could use one of her exits spread throughout the house to leave the building, and leave him feeling idiotic for talking to a pile of plants. But, he’d just come back once an encyclopedia told him that all Kalossian homes were covered in forest plants. So with a sigh, she left the building through one of the side exits, and circled around to the front of her house. Her visitor was an enormous humanoid covered in thick green armor. He had his back to her now, facing her front door. She’d seen Ice Warriors before, but this one looked a little different than the average specimen. His stance wasn’t rigid and disciplined like most of his kind--in fact, it almost looked as if he slouched a bit. ‘’Species: Ice Warrior. Homeworld: Mars, Sol System. Projected weak points: hinged armor at the joints. Lower front segment of helmet provides an unarmored target. Recommended weapon for termination: accurate plasma rifle or thin melee blade.’’ Olvi ignored the voice in her head, like she always did these days. Instead she put on a smile. “A noble Ice Warrior, striding the surface of an alien world. What victories will he win? What pitiful defenseless natives will he gun down? What honor!” The Ice Warrior turned around suddenly, with a start. “Oh. Hello. I’m looking for a Kalossian named Olvi,” he explained. The part of his face that showed under his helmet looked very confused. “Olvi?” Olvi asked in mock confusion. “Are you here to kill her?” “No,” the Ice Warrior said in confusion. “Like I told the assistants in that library, I work for the Shadow Proclamation. I have been sent to collect her.” “You’re an idiot,” observed Olvi thoughtfully. The alien glared, but ultimately seemed to decide on ignoring that comment. “My name is Mirluc. I am a technical manager for the Shadow Proclamation. Who are you?” “Olvi.” “Oh.” The Ice Warrior simply stared at her for a moment, before stiffening his posture. “Miss Olvi, I have been sent to collect you.” “I’m sorry to hear that,” Olvi replied. Mirluc frowned. “I was hoping this would be easy,” he said finally. “More evidence in favor of the ‘Mirluc is an idiot’ theory,” Olvi said nastily, circling him as she examined him. “Let’s see… you’re not wearing finger guards, indicating that you’re not carrying any of your species’ heavy weapons. In point of fact, your gauntlets are among the thinnest, most delicate gloves I’ve ever seen on a Martian. Hardly what you should be wearing on an alien planet you’ve never been too and know nothing about.” “I researched this world thoroughly before coming,” Mirluc protested. “And yet, you seem confused about basic Kalossian architecture and you weren’t even able to find out my address before landing here.” “I could have found out using the ship’s computers,” Mirluc said pompously. “But their servers are unencrypted. Someone could have monitored my search history and found out I was looking for you.” “So instead you asked a bunch of questions to the most talkative and childish Kalossian in Kallith City,” Olvi replied dryly. “Your deceptive skills are even more terrible than your research skills.” Mirluc scowled. “What precisely are you here for?” Olvi continued. “Or shall I guess? The Proclamation sent an incompetent Ice Warrior. And you’ve got enough mud on your boots to tell me they sent you in as discreet a way as possible--they could have afforded you transport straight to Kallith Spaceport, but instead they dropped you off in the swamp. So you’re very worried about someone hacking into your search history or scanning your flight records, but you’re unconcerned about a random librarian blabbing about you.” “And what does that tell you?” asked Mirluc, seeming irritable now. “It tells me that you want me involved in something dramatic and political that I don’t care about,” Olvi replied. Mirluc groaned in frustration.